


Counterproductive

by Hannigrammatic



Series: Screw it! [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Hannibal would totes request Will as a last meal, M/M, Rimming, Will is breakfast basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannigrammatic/pseuds/Hannigrammatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal has Will for breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counterproductive

**Author's Note:**

> Smut is like comfort-food to me. All mistakes are mine ♥
> 
> Note: The Screw It! series can be read in any order, they're standalone for the most part, just all in the same verse =)

Hannibal leans against the doorway into the kitchen and feels his heart begin racing in delight as he finds his boyfriend preparing breakfast. Usually Will sleeps in for another hour at least, curled up much like one of his dogs in the bounteous blankets that make up Hannibal’s bed. Will is what one would call a ‘blanket-hog’, and he is decidedly difficult to cuddle as a result, but Hannibal is strong and could arrange his sleep-heavy limbs himself if it came down to it (which it often did).

“There you are,” Hannibal says with a smile.

Will whips around, blue eyes wide. He is easy to frighten, and Hannibal adores taking advantage of that just to see his usually grumpy features pulled into adorable shock. His boyfriend’s dark curly hair is sleep-mussed and sticking up in every direction, and he’s wearing Hannibal’s black robe, the warm one with the white lining. 

And, judging by the sparsely furred chest poking out at the wide collar, Will is likely not wearing much else, if anything.

“Oh, good morning,” Will smiles as his shock fades and he turns back to the island counter.

Hannibal saunters up to him and stands close at his back, looking over his shoulder to see Will is cutting thin slices out of a block of cheese. The carton of eggs is out, along with the butter, a frying pan, and bread still wrapped up, and there’s coffee brewing in the atrocious machine Hannibal had finally caved and allowed Will to purchase. He leans closer and inhales against Will’s neck, taking in the lovely scent there that is mildly bitter with sweat.

“Up early and making breakfast. May I inquire as to the occasion?” Hannibal questions.

He moves closer and sets his hands on either side of Will, not quite pressing him into the counter but definitely trapping him there. For his part, Will continues to slice the cheese patiently and evenly, the actions perfectly opposite to his frazzled appearance. Hannibal nuzzles dark curls and begins to softly grind his pelvis into Will’s backside.

“No occasion. Just decided it would be nice for you to wake up to breakfast for once,” Will answers. 

There’s a hitch in his breath, but the man shows no other sign that he is aware of the clothed erection seeking friction against his rear. _So that’s how this is going to be,_ Hannibal realizes with a smirk. He exhales behind Will’s ear.

“I feel honored,” he purrs.

“You should. I don’t make omelettes for just anyone.”

Hannibal can hear the grin he can’t see. Will is still purposely ignoring the inexorable movements that bring the two men even closer together, bodies flush and separated only by their sleep clothes. With a whisper of fabric, Hannibal hums and begins to hike the robe up Will’s legs on one side. The knife comes down with a loud clack against the cutting board, and the slice of cheese that falls is not even this time. A victory for Hannibal, finally.

“Put the knife down, love,” he whispers into an ear slowly turning red with the flush he can very well imagine painting Will’s features.

“But breakfast,” Will argues.

“It can wait.”

“Hannibal,” Will’s plaintive tone makes Hannibal’s cock twitch in his pajama pants, and he holds him tight in place against the hard warmth of his very interested morning hardon.

“Down,” Hannibal growls.

The knife clatters out of his hand and Will turns his head. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open on a quiet moan. Pleased, Hannibal grips the hem of the robe and lifts it the rest of the way to stroke his hand along Will’s hip, thumbing the muscles and taut skin, before jerking the other side up as well so that his boyfriend’s backside is exposed to the cool morning air.

“Ah. I thought so,” Hannibal mutters at the lack of clothes beneath the robe. “Will, you naughty boy.”

“I just wanted to make breakfast,” Will grumbles.

The blush staining his features tells another story that Hannibal is more than happy to listen to. He licks a wet stripe up Will’s neck, sucks briefly at the smooth flesh, before kneeling quite suddenly. The shock is enough to cause Will to move instinctively, and Hannibal is quick to trap him fully with both his hands fisting the fabric of the robe.

“Bend over, my love,” Hannibal commands.

Will obeys after moving the cutting board with the forgotten cheese. He presses his face onto the chilly surface of the counter with a small shudder and a single drawn-out moan.

“Hold the robe up for me.”

A shaking hand reaches around to obey again. Will is quivering just slightly in expectation, and Hannibal takes his time to drink in the sight before him, the way his lover’s pale skin draws tight with gooseflesh and his muscles twitch with delicious tension. He leans forward and noses along the back of one thigh, peppers kisses along it, before using his free hands to grab handfuls of Will’s supple asscheeks. Spreading him wide, Hannibal wastes no more time with games.

“Oh, fuck,” Will’s eyes snap open and he jolts bodily, the hand not holding the robe up clawing at the unyielding surface beneath him as Hannibal’s tongue laves firmly against his asshole.

Will moans loudly at the filthy action, never quite used to this particular favorite of Hannibal’s many sexual preferences. The firm muscle of Hannibal’s tongue presses inside of him without preamble, nudging wetly into the musky depths, strong hands spreading him obscenely wider and supporting him when his knees buckle momentarily. Hannibal is beside himself just then, nuzzling the damp heat before him, wriggling his tongue as deep as he can, inhaling the intimate scent and uncaring of the drool that oozes down his chin as he eats Will out and enjoys every second of it. In seconds, however, Will’s legs are shaking so hard it’s apparent that he won’t be able to support himself for long. But Hannibal is not yet content to finish, so he hauls Will bodily up and lays him properly on the counter, holds his legs securely in place, and returns his face between blush-reddened cheeks, tongue plunging back into heat and nose full of Will’s intoxicating scent.

A litany of curse words and Hannibal’s own name falls from Will’s bite-swollen lips as he’s lifted like a ragdoll, nearly knocking the eggs onto the floor, and he feels his eyes water as the thick tongue returns to his most vulnerable place, squirming back inside of him and venturing along his insides. Hannibal’s fingers press bruises into his legs as he bucks, and he feels his own cock twitching trapped beneath him, feels the wet stain of his precome against the fabric of the robe. The feeling of being completely at his boyfriend’s mercy is one that Will enjoys more than he cares to admit, and he knows Hannibal knows, so that’s enough reason for him to lay there and take it and love it and cry out as full lips suck against his soaked hole with a lascivious slurp.

“Please,” Will groans loudly and it cuts off into a keening wail as Hannibal shakes his head and presses as far as he can, pulls out to suck against his hole again, before he laps gently at the rim.

“Please, what?” Hannibal asks as he pulls away finally.

“Fuck me,” Will begs and looks over his shoulder at his boyfriend as he licks his lips.

Hannibal peers down at him with a quirked brow as he wipes his face of the spittle that had gathered there. He drops his eyes to Will’s ass, strokes a hand up his leg to spread him open again, and nudges his thumb inside slightly. He debates lifting the shivering mess of limbs that is his boyfriend and bringing him upstairs to fuck him into the mattress, and decides he doesn’t want to wait any longer insteaed. He unties the strings of his pajama pants and lets them fall, spits into his hand to lather his cock, and pulls Will partially off of the counter. The action frees the poor man’s cock finally, and it bounces free, balls drawn up tight and swinging heavily.

“Only because beg so prettily,” Hannibal growls.

He feeds his cock into Will’s tightness, the both of them used to more lubrication than this, but also enjoying fucking with less as well. The head of Hannibal’s leaking cock pops passed the clenching ring of muscle, and he uses one hand to hold Will steady, the other guiding his length further into his boyfriend’s sweating and shaking body. It’s too slow for Will, though, whose body jerks as he uses his own hands to push back as much as he can, and his hole envelopes Hannibal’s sizable cock to the hilt, gaping around the girth hungrily. Hannibal growls again, and Will knows he’ll be punished for it later, and that thought only makes his stomach tighten pleasantly.

“Naughty,” his lover grunts from behind him.

Will moans in response and bites his lip again. He’s so full, and his breath shakes as he inhales and exhales to calm his racing heart, to focus on the feeling of his boyfriend buried so deep inside of him it’s as if he’s a part of him. Breakfast is completely forgotten now, and Will tosses his head back and growls as well. He wraps his legs around Hannibal as much as he can and urges him to move. _Beautiful_ Hannibal thinks, and he obeys instead of lingering to tease as he normally would. He pulls out halfway as his fingers dig into the pliant flesh of Will’s hips, and sinks back in with a hard thrust that has the smaller man’s body slipping along cool metal. 

The pace Hannibal sets is brutal and singular in its intent. His thick cock spears into Will’s quivering hole with even and hard thrusts, balls slapping against Will’s own, and the sound is enough to make his lover squirm even more and cry out loudly. It still amazes Hannibal how receptive Will is to sensations, how his reactions are always so powerful and pretty and desperate. There are few things greater than tearing Will’s careful control apart completely and almost effortlessly. Hannibal feels a swell of possessiveness come to the surface and he answers Will’s now constant stream of moans with another growl, loud and primal.

“Mine,” Hannibal says.

“Yours, your-oh god, please, Hannibal.”

Will’s voice is strained and his whining is sweet sweet music to Hannibal’s ears. They’re both sweating with the exertion, both breathing heavily, both seeking completion, and they do, at the same time, Will’s cock untouched, stiff and twitching the entire time, the tip rubbing just gently against the cold surface before him. He bites his lip on another loud moan and comes, not caring that he bangs his head in the process, or that he knocks the bread flying. Ropes of come spurt onto the floor and he wonders if Hannibal will make him lick it up after, and that only makes his body shake more, stars exploding behind his eyes. Hannibal comes inside of him after slamming home one last time, Will’s orgasm milking him with spasming contractions. He sinks to the hilt and throws his head back and bares his teeth in a snarl of dominance. 

Afterwards, he gently pulls out and helps his boyfriend to his feet, eyes gleaming as he spots the drizzle of his own come dripping from Will’s still twitching asshole. He takes a moment to shove the smaller man lightly back against the counter, spreads his asscheeks to get a better look as his chest swells with love and contentment and the pleasure of claiming what is his. Will purrs and stretches as the tension bleeds out of his body, satisfied entirely by their morning endeavor.

“You ought to wear that more often,” Hannibal says, accent more pronounced in his sated state as he smoothes the robe back over Will’s frame. “After you wash it, of course.”

“That first part a command?” Will turns to face his lover with a smirk.

“The first and the second.”

Hannibal smiles and enfolds him in an affectionate embrace. He nuzzles sweat-damp curls and lets out a breath against red cheeks. Capturing bite-bruised lips in a chaste kiss, Hannibal finally pulls back and releases Will to put his pajama pants back on. He saunters towards the door he’d come through and stops to look over his shoulder at his lover, whose bright blue eyes are quick to look up from where they’d been admiring Hannibal’s ass. Will blinks curiously.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Hannibal says with a wink.

Fini


End file.
